I arrived in PNG in 1990 for a three-year contract. I enjoyed running and have always enjoyed a beer. Through work I met people from Hash House Harriers, a worldwide social running group. Beer consumption played a big part in the social activities. That didn’t scare me, but the price of beer over there did.
I soon discovered that the way around this problem was to brew my own. I managed to put a kit together and put down my first brew.
A few weeks later I was having trouble sleeping so I decided to watch TV. It was 2.30 a.m. and I was starting to doze off.
Suddenly I was startled by a series of loud bangs followed by the sound of breaking glass. The house alarms were ringing and the dogs were barking.
I was quickly in a state of absolute panic and was lying on the floor trying to turn off the television and the lights.
I thought the local Raskol gangs were raiding the place. I figured they had let off some shots and would soon be coming over the eight-foot barbed wire fences.
Then I had another thought: The Beer.
I went to the back window, looked out cautiously and saw the majority of my first brewing effort running across the patio with glass strewn amongst it. My money-saving exercise had exploded in the most spectacular way.
The next Monday night that the Harriers met I was given a mug of beer to skol for wasting beer. After a few tips my following efforts were more successful and less stressful.